


Bonked, Bashed and Blasted (But Never Bored)

by TMar



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 14:22:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17081951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TMar/pseuds/TMar
Summary: Kirk discovers why he and the Enterprise always seem to get the crazy, dangerous missions.





	Bonked, Bashed and Blasted (But Never Bored)

**Author's Note:**

> Tropes on parade! I wrote this in December 1991. It belongs to that genre of story in which a character is told by an omnipotent character just why they keep getting hurt.

BONKED, BASHED AND BLASTED (BUT NEVER BORED)

Kirk was not having a very good day at all. In fact, he was having a very bad day indeed. Not that it wasn't usual, but why did everything always happen to him? Like there weren't 11 (actually, 8 since the Intrepid had gotten eaten by that giant space amoeba) other starships this could happen to. No, it was always the Enterprise which managed to get in the path of homicidal maniacs, Klingons, other aliens, suicidal machinery, etc. etc. etc. And today they had managed to somehow get in the path of every single one, and more.

First, they had had a little run-in with the Klingons, who'd managed to damage the transporter as well as various parts of Kirk's anatomy. Then, they had encountered two more robot Doomsday machines (which they had dispatched after one had blown a slight hole in the ship, disabling the impulse engines and killing only fifteen security men). If that hadn't been bad enough, one of their diplomatic passengers had somehow been possessed by an evil alien and tried to blow Spock to bits (blowing huge holes in the bulkheads, which meant HIS cabin now had a lovely view of SPOCK's cabin), they had picked up a virus from said alien and done some things which no one could remember (the ship was in a mess, and Kirk was now wearing what looked like a Gorn's bathrobe), until McCoy had found a cure.

Thinking now that nothing more could possibly happen, Kirk strode onto the bridge, ignoring the stares from his bridge crew, and sat down in the command chair. Which promptly fell apart, bashing a shin. Picking himself up off the deck with what remained of his dignity, he strode into the turbolift, which went into freefall, the gravity only kicking in at the last minute, leaving various strategic bones of Kirk's cracked. Deciding to visit McCoy later, Kirk dragged himself out into the corridor, into his cabin and leaned against the wall, which (naturally) fell over, leaving him lying on his back in the corridor, with numerous lacerations. He couldn't feel them, luckily, since he'd been knocked out cold.

He awoke in sickbay, with Spock leaning over him, holding his hand, saying what sounded like, "I do not know if I would desire to live without you, Captain", or something. _That's it,_ thought Kirk, _I've lost my mind._ He looked at the ceiling (Spock, seeing he was awake, had snatched his hand away and was examining the body-functions board) and so Kirk asked, "Why do these things always happen to me?"

Sickbay faded out, to be replaced by what seemed to be the ship's corridor. Injuries no longer worrying him, he strode forward, only to be met by a glow of white light (an Organian, Kirk thought). *FOLLOW ME,* boomed its voice. Having nothing better to do, Kirk followed it down the corridor, which opened up into what seemed to be a 20th century living room filled with icecream cartons, microwave popcorn packets and coffee mugs. Four women were sitting in various parts of the room. One was reading what looked like a large, softcover book, another was typing frantically on an ancient typewriter, another was jotting down notes on a writing pad, and the fourth was typing on (and swearing at) a wordprocessor (not that Kirk knew what it was). 

The one with the book began talking, and Kirk could just make out what she was saying. "Hey, this is a good one! Kirk gets stuck on this planet, see, and captured and tortured by the high priests of the town until he's almost dead, okay, but Spock rescues him see, only they can't get rescued by the Enterprise yet, right, so Spock hauls him off to a secluded cabin and fixes him up and looks after him until McCoy can arrive and fix him up."

The one at the wordprocessor said, "Yeah, how about this one I'm writing. Kirk and Spock still have this mind link from that episode, you know, with the Melkotians, right, so when Kirk gets stuck on this planet Spock knows about it and goes to rescue him, only he gets captured by some Klingon agents, right, and Kirk has to escape and find HIM, and he nurses him back to health, and they discover just what good friends they are."

"Yeah, yeah!" chorused the other three. "Hang on," said the one with the writing pad, a wicked glint in her eye, "can't we write one where they BOTH get hurt, and..."

She was interrupted by the one at the typewriter. "But who will comfort whom?"

"Well, okay," said the one with the writing pad, "they both get hurt on this planet, only at different times, and they each get a turn at being looked after, and we discover that Kirk has another child see, and Spock finally confesses to what happened back on that spore planet, whatsitsname, with that blonde female."

Kirk sank to the floor, completely unobserved by the four jabbering women, which seemed kinda strange, since the Organian was casting a bright white glow on everything. "Okay," he said weakly, "what's going on?"

*ALL THE THINGS THAT HAVE HAPPENED TO YOU HAVE BEEN CAUSED BY PEOPLE LIKE THESE. THEY CALL THEMSELVES FANS* the Organian boomed at him.

Thinking "fan" was some sort of alien name for sadist, Kirk then asked, "I don't get it. Why would they want to hurt me like this? They hate me or what?"

*N0, THEY DO NOT HATE YOU, CAPTAIN,* boomed the Organian, *THEY LOVE YOU.*

At Kirk's repeat of "I don't get it", the Organian continued. *YOU ALWAYS HURT THE ONE YOU LOVE. THEY HURT YOU SO THAT YOU CAN BE COMFORTED BY MR. SPOCK. THE MORE YOU ARE HURT, THE MORE COMFORT YOU MAY RECEIVE.*

"But why Spock?" asked Kirk reasonably. "They couldn't let me be comforted by some dark-haired, dark-eyed, hourglass-shaped beauty?"

*THAT WOULD OPEN THEM UP TO BEING ACCUSED OF WRITING WISH-FULFILLMENT STORIES, CAPTAIN, SO THEY DISGUISE IT BY MAKING MR SPOCK DO ALL THEY WOULD LIKE TO.*

_I'm sure,_ thought Kirk. Then, "Aren't there any, any... er, fans, who write stories where something pleasant happens?"

The Organian bobbed slightly towards the woman at the typewriter. "She does, but that also involves Mr Spock." Just at that moment, one woman suggested, "How 'bout we go out and buy some really sinful food, I dunno, hamburgers or chips or Kentucky Fried Chicken?"

"Great idea!" shouted the other three, and, leaving the books, papers, typewriters, where they were, the four women gathered up their purses and rushed from the room. Now was Kirk's chance. He wanted to see the pleasant story. He picked up a few completed pages from next to the typewriter.

He came upon mind-melds, stars flashing, declarations of undying love, descriptions of shoulders, feet and other (Vulcan as well as Human) anatomical parts, strange Vulcan ceremonies, talks of "bonding", medical advice from McCoy, and other lurid things that didn't bear thinking about. Kirk dropped the pages as if they were an ex-girlfriend. "Aaaaarrggghhh!" he screamed. "No, no, what are they trying to do to me! Get me out of here!"

The Organian boomed, one last time, *IT WILL BE ALL RIGHT, CAPTAIN. TAKE MORE PRECAUTIONS WHEN YOU BEAM DOWN TO PLANETS IN FUTURE AND EVERYTHING WILL BE ALL RIGHT... ALL RIGHT...ALL RIGHT...*

***

"...all right now, Jim?" came McCoy's voice. Kirk blinked up at him, remembering his bashed shin, his cracked bones, his tortured body, his lacerations and his mental torment. McCoy went on, seeing Kirk's eyes were clear, "You were tossing and turning. Would've thrown yourself out of bed if Spock hadn't been here to hold you down."

Spock stepped up to one side of McCoy so that Kirk could see him. "You keep him company for a minute, Spock, while I go and get him something to eat. Bet he hasn't eaten since this morning when we encountered the Klingons."

As McCoy left the room, Kirk said, "You were holding my hand just now, Mr Spock."

"Yes, Captain, you were shivering and yet the monitors showed a fever. I was checking you in order to decide whether to call Dr McCoy. I apologise if I was over-familiar, but I seem to recall that Humans are comforted by touch..."

"Very logical," agreed Kirk. "But what was that you were saying about, not being able to live without me?"

Spock swallowed. "I do indeed doubt if my life would be worth living without you, Jim. You are my friend." He didn't say more; nothing more was necessary.

Kirk sighed happily, wondering if this was the "comfort" part that the fans had been talking about, and hoping even more that his pains for the day were over. Just in case the "fans" were planning something more, he decided, he wasn't going to move.

McCoy returned with chicken soup, one of Kirk's favourites, and a small amount of Saurian Brandy. Talking like he expected Kirk to disagree, McCoy said, "You can have some now, Jim, but you'll have to stay in bed for at least three days before I let you back on active duty. And Mr Spock here is not going to bother you with any ship's business!"

Kirk smiled. "Okay, Bones. Spock, that's an order."

As long as he lived, Kirk would never forget the stunned surprise on McCoy's face, or the way in which BOTH Spock's eyebrows disappeared into his hair. He couldn't resist another jab. "I've been a Victim of Fan Fiction, gentlemen."

Kirk just knew that Spock would spend all day looking that up in the linguistic banks.

THE END


End file.
